Scarf Dance: My Version
by Saya1450
Summary: This is what I think should've happened during the scarf dance at Mel's party for Bran and Nee...


Well, this is my first CCD fanfiction but I've been reading others around ere and really havel liked what I've seen. So I decided to do one of my own. Oh, and the first part is in ittalics because its an except from the book Crown Duel. Hope you enjoy and please review!

-Saya1450-

Scarf Dance: My Version

_The two tones of white-change had rung when the scarf dances began._

_To the muted thunder of drums the dancers ran out, clad in hose and diaphanous tunics of light gray, each connected to the dancer behind him or her by ropes of intertwined gold and green. Glints of silver threads woven into floating, swirling tunics flashed like starlight, as well-muscled limbs moved with deliberate, graceful rhythm in a difficult counterpoint to the drums._

Why this gift, o pilgrim, my pilgrim,

Why this cup of water for me?

I give thee the ocean, stormy or tranquil,

Endless and boundless as my love for thee…

_Now it was time for the love songs, and first was the ancient Four Questions, sung in antiphony by the women and the men, and then reversed._

…Why this firebrand for me?

_Dancers, lovers, all turned and stepped and circled, connected only by the scarves which hid them, then revealed them, then bound them together as they stepped in, his corner held high by the shoulders, hers low at her waist._

…Just so my love burneth for thee

_As I watched, images flitted through my mind of little Ara, the girl I'd met last year who talked so cheerily of twoing. And of Oria, and of the summer dances on our hills; and I realized, at last, how emotion-parched I was and how ignorant of the mysteries of love._

_I had seen ardency in men's eyes, but I had never felt it myself. As I watched, isolated but unable to turn away, I suddenly wished that I could feel it. No, I _did_ feel it, I realized. I did have the same feeling, only I had masked it before as restlessness, or as the exhortation to action, or as anger. And I thought how wonderful it would be to see that spark now, in the right pair of eyes…_

I glanced slowly around the room…and my eyes met with the familiar gray ones of the Marquis of Shevraeth.

My breath caught shakily in my throat, for his eyes betrayed emotion, an emotion so intense I could barely comprehend it. But I knew my eyes and my face, as always, portrayed the same intensity his did, for as our gazes locked I saw a flicker of brief surprise and quizzical questioning enter in beneath that intensity. He had seen and correctly comprehended my emotions. It was in that brief second that passed between us that I knew. And he knew.

I glanced quickly away, embarrassed, feeling my face flush a bright crimson red, turning my gaze anywhere but him, the ceiling, the intricately decorated wall, the marble floor, the whirling dancers, the colorful crowd of spectators. Finally my roving eyes came back to rest on the place the Marquis had been standing only a few moments before…and found it empty, occupied by a tall, commanding court lady whose name escaped me for the moment. I sent my gaze darting worriedly around the antiquely designed room, wondering where on earth Shevraeth could have disappeared to.

Then I felt a light touch on my sleeve, so light I barely noticed it. I turned, my heart beginning to flutter recklessly in my chest as my blue eyes took in Shevraeth's tall, handsome figure.

"Meliara," He murmured softly, so only I could hear him. "Would you care to join me in this dance?"

I stared at him, a complex mixture of emotions rushing through me, my heart beating a hole in my breast. His tone had been one of polite interest, but I had detected a small question beneath the courtly gesture. But the same intensity from before was in his eyes, causing an emotion I had never experienced before to well up from deep inside me. The only thing I could do without making a complete fool of myself was nod dumbly to his request.

His gray eyes darkened as the intensity within them deepened. Then, suddenly he shook out a brightly colored scarf he had hidden in his sleeve and offered one end of it to me, bowing slightly as he did. I slowly, carefully, took the shivering tip and he slowly led me out to the dance floor. Our eyes locked and it suddenly seemed as if the whole world had disappeared; the only ones left were he and I.

We moved about the room, slowly, one end of the scarf dipping to my waist while the other lifted into an elegant arc at his shoulder. We moved and dipped and twirled about. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. Exhilarating, yet at the same time calming, confusing yet at the same time clear. I was well aware of the staring eyes of the spectators fixed firmly on our two, elegantly clad figures whirling aimlessly around the room, in time to the music of the dance. I was well aware that it had seemed, only the day before, that I hated Shevraeth with all sincerity to all outsiders. I was well aware that the scarf dance was for lovers and couples.

I didn't mind their stares or their gawking postures, all that mattered at that moment was he, dancing by my side, unafraid of the large step we were taking in our relationship. In truth I was kind of frightened too. He was the heir to the Renselaeus throne, the heir to all of Remalna. I knew that some people might see it as a plot of mine to get money. After all I'd had a shot at the throne and lost it. But…I loved Shevraeth.

The realization washed over me completely and firmly, filling me up with a bursting joy and raising my spirits even higher than they had been already, soaring into the very limits of the sky. I loved him! And he loved me. That was enough for me.

I turned back to him, my heart full of joy and love (which I was sure my features portrayed quite plainly to all) and danced better than I had ever danced before.


End file.
